Absorbing the Darkness
by vcbxnzm21
Summary: When America's plane goes down just outside London England races to the scene of the crash. But a mysterious man, hidden in the shadows, watches the two. But will this new man help the nations in need or will he only bring trouble to the them? And where have all the other nations disappeared to? Rated M for slight language and a rape scene later on.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello everyone! I know that it's been quite some time since I've posted anything of any kind. But it's a new year and I wanted to try something new. But let me give y'all some back story first.**

 **This year I started college. There I met some new people. My new friends introduced me to this weird Japanese show called Hetalia... It was my first ever anime but I loved it. Of course each of my friends described themselves with a character and I chose England because I see myself in him a lot.**

 **I also have a good friend who identifies as America.**

 **To cure both of our writer's block we decided to write a story together. She started with a few paragraphs and then I'd send a few paragraphs back and in the end we wrote an entire story...**

 **This is our brain child. The odd chapters are her writings and the even chapters are mine. Some chapters are shorter than others as it depended on how much we wanted to write at that point.**

 **TRIGGER WARNING: There is a rape scene at one point in this story. I'll make sure to put the warning again at the top of that chapter. But if that is something that is triggering to you please be aware that this will happen later in the story!**

 **Also please be sure to review! We both would love your guys opinions!**

An explosion erupted in the distance as fire and smoke quickly lit up the forest on the outskirts of London. The remains of a plane lay crumbled in a pile of molten debris in the center of a clearing, America laid pinned under the burning wreckage. His brown bomber jacket was charred from the flames that whipped into the night sky as they mercilessly attacked his face.

"D—Dammit." Cursing, he slowly reached forward trying to pull himself away from the wreckage. Grasping at the ground, he winced as his entire chest shifted, his insides rolling over themselves. "God." With one great heave, he pulled himself forward, dragging his limp legs behind him.

He slowly inches his way to the edge of the clearing as he forced himself to sit up against a tree. "Fuck." Coughing, blood trickled from the corners of his mouth as he stared up at the night sky. "Hmm," he forced himself to smile, "It's actually really nice out tonight." Wincing again, he squinted momentarily as his eyelids became heavy. Within seconds, Alfred had fallen unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Please remember to read and review!**

In the center of London sat England. He sat in front of his television watching the latest episode of Doctor Who. He took a small sip of the tea in his hand as he felt it, a shake in the ground.

"Well that's odd," he said glancing up from the show just as the theme song started to play through the speakers. "England doesn't normally get earth quakes." The man stood and walked over to the large window not far from where he had been sitting. He peered out through the normal foggy weather to see them. Large flames licked their way to the sky in what was obviously some sort of crash or explosion.

He peered harder through the fog to see the tail end of an American plane sticking up over the trees. "No," the man whispered shaking his head, his tea slipping from his fingers. "Oh god no."

Quickly, not even bothering to grab a jacket as he was already in his uniform, the Britain raced out the door. By the time he reached the crash the nation was breathing heavily. His eyes reflected the flames as he looked around for that familiar mop of dark blonde hair he was sure would be nearby.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Please make sure to review!**

England scrambled around, running toward the flaming plane. "America!" he shouted into the flames, panic consuming his entire body. "God dammit where are you?!" Stepping back from the craft, he span around looking at the trees on the edge of the clearing. It didn't take him long to see a hand sticking out from behind one, resting motionlessly on the ground.

Within seconds, he raced over to the body, kneeling down next to the unconscious man. "Alfred." He gently placed a hand to the man's cheek. "Bloody hell, he's alive." Sighing with relief, Arthur looked the man over, observing the damage.

America's bomber jacket was in tatters as shards of glass and metal were still embedded into it. A large piece of debris was thrust through his side, causing blood to gush from his body. A pool of it had already formed around him, staining his tan clothes. America's face was filled with scrapes and gouges, a string of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

"What did you do to yourself?" England sighed, his hand resting on Alfred's cheek. Reaching into his pocket, he quickly called an ambulance. "We'll get you taken care of right away." He slowly began to shift the American into his arms as he attempted to pick him up. "Now let's get you out of here." He looked back at the plane a final time, hoping the firetrucks would soon arrive to extinguish the mess.

Sighing, Arthur began to walk away heading toward the main road, ignoring everything behind him.

On the other side of the clearing a man stood, watching England hall the American away from the wreckage. Not saying a word, he quickly disappeared within the shadows of the forest behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Please review! Reviews will be rewarded with love!**

England carried the unconscious America to the road, trying to ignore the flames that licked upward behind him. Although the Britain was smaller compared to the American he was still able to carry the larger nation.

Once the pair reached the road Arthur paused. He looked around trying to figure out which direction to start walking. That's when he heard the siren. Within seconds the ambulance pulled up next to the two.

"Sir," one of the EMTs said as he got out of the back of the ambulance. "We need to take him sir. He's in critical condition."

England looked at the man hardly processing what he was saying. All he knew was that America was being taken from his arms and loaded into the back of the ambulance. A mask covered his face to help pump oxygen in his lungs. "Alfred," he whispered quietly, a tear making its way down his cheek.

A firm hand was pressed against his back. England gave a startled look to see the EMT from earlier. "Do you want to ride with him?"

Arthur nodded and followed the EMT into the ambulance. England reached down and grabbed Alfred's hand, cradling it in his own as the EMTs moved around the younger nation making sure that he lived long enough to reach the hospital.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Sorry this chapter is so short but enjoy! And please review!**

Squeezing Alfred's hand England quietly said, "You really need to take better care of yourself, America." He sighed, trying to keep calm. He just wanted to just bend over and embrace the younger nation, but the glass protruding from America's side kept him from doing so. "It'll be okay." He mumbled, trying to smile. "Just hold on, okay?"

America was hoisted out of the ambulance and onto a stretcher as he was wheeled into the emergency room. England quickly followed behind the surgeons, but only for a bit as they wouldn't let him in the surgery room.

"I'm sorry, sir." The doctor paused, "But you need to remain out here. We will come get you when we are done." Closing the door behind him, the doctor left Arthur standing alone in the hallway.

Sighing, England paced a few moments, running a hand through his golden blond hair. "Bloody hell, America." His voice choked at the end. "Please…please be alright." He sat down on a bench, staring at the surgery door…hoping…praying.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Sorry these are so short but we hope you like them anyways!**

England sat like that for hours. Just staring at the door that he had last seen America disappear through. The nation barely dared to breathe as each time the doors opened he hoped that it was a doctor to call him back to see America.

But each time it felt like England's heart was breaking a little bit more as people left the waiting room. Soon the only person left in the pale blue waiting room was the nation.

"God what's taking so long?" Arthur asked himself as he glanced at the clock, running his fingers through his hair. Five hours. It had been five hours since America had gone into emergency surgery.

Another hour passed.

And another.

And another.

It had been almost nine hours when a doctor finally came out a called, "Alfred F Jones".

England leapt to his feet and followed the doctor to the room where America was. The nation's breath caught in his throat as he walked into the room, his heart shattering.

America was hooked up to a bunch of machines. A mask covered his mouth and nose to keep him breathing. Stitches covered parts of his face and neck. Arthur didn't even want to see what the younger nation's side looked like where the glass had been.

"Oh god America," he breathed out rushing to the side of the bed.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Please review!**

England sat next to the bed, cupping America's hand in his. "Please be alright." He placed his forehead against the bed, breathing heavily, trying not to cry. "Please."

"Eng-England?"

Arthur quickly raised his head, to see America slowly rolling his head on his pillow.

"Alfred!" Quickly wiping his eyes on his sleeve, he jumped to his feet. "You're alive." A wave of joy swept over him.

America squinted momentarily as his eyelids flickered, turning his gaze to the other nation. He looked confused and lost, almost like the little child Arthur had grown to know and love.

"You're in the hospital, America," England explained as he sat back down. "You were in surgery for nine hours. But now you're going to be alright, okay?"

America tried to open his mouth, but stopped as he turned to look at the ceiling. He shook slightly as he could feel the pain of the injuries covering his body. "Arthur," he muttered, his eyes glistening with tears.

"It's okay, Alfred," England said he reached forward, once again grabbing the nation's hand. "I'm here for you."

America suddenly coughed as he looked back at the other nation, "Why-Why did you shoot my plane down?"

Arthur dropped the nation's hand, staring at him dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?" he asked. Then the nation paused, thinking it was probably from all the drugs they had pumped into America. Sighing, he replied. "I didn't, Alfred. You crashed your plane here."

America squinted again as he turned his lost gaze back up to the ceiling. "Oh." He paused. "But then…where did that missile come from?" The American then slowly let his eyes close again as he faded into the blackness of sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: This chapter is so short... Sorry my loves! But reviews are love!**

England watched as America passed out again. Arthur stood up, his chair flying back in his anger. The frustrated nation paced back and forth at the foot of Alfred's bed trying to collect his thoughts.

Someone shot America's plane down. From inside England's boarders. With a missile. And no one told Arthur.

Who the fuck would do something like that? Sure America had his troubles with other nations. Alfred was loud and tended to speak his mind with no verbal filter what so ever. But to attempt to murder the young nation. Well that was something that was unthinkable.

But the scary part was that no one had told Arthur that a missile had been shot within his land.

England glanced at America, who had stirred in his sleep. "I will get to the bottom of this Alfred. I promise. Even if it kills me, I'll make sure you're safe, no matter what."

With that Arthur grabbed his chair and sat back down knowing that he was going to help America every step of the way.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Yay! This one is a bit longer! So please enjoy and review!**

England sat down, folding his hands in contemplation. "I promise you..." Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair.

There was a sudden knock on the door as it slowly opened, a nursing standing outside the door. "He's in here, Mr. Williamson."

"Thank you." A sudden voice responded as a man quickly stepped inside the room. He was about 5' 11" with brown hair and pale skin. A black pea coat fit snuggly around his body, with a red scarf carefully tucked around his neck. He had strange red eyes that Arthur had only ever seen on nations, but this new man was no nation. Although he looked prestigious and well groomed, similar to nobility.

"Who are you?" England quickly stood up, cautious of anyone that entered the room.

But the man completely ignored Arthur as he ran to America's bedside "Alfred!" Reaching down, he knelt next to the unconscious man, grabbing his hand. "It'll be okay, bud." He looked up at England, suddenly realizing there was another person in the room. "Who are you?"

"Who the bloody hell are you?" England retorted.

"Oh, my apologies." The man quickly stood up, reaching his hand out. "How rude of me! My name is Peter. Peter Williamson."

England looked at the man's hand for a second but then cordially replied the hand shake. "How do you know Alfred?" Arthur questioned.

Peter looked down at Alfred's body and sighed, seeming to be flying through past memories. "We're pen pals actually, as odd as that sounds." He turned back to England with a smile. "We wrote back and forth to each other when he was in the army. Afterwards, we decided to meet up."

England paused for a moment but then nodded. "How did you know he was here?"

Peter pointed toward the window, motioning to the end of the plane that was still sticking up over the tree line. "I was coming home from work and saw that. I recognized the plane as the one America flew to come see me and knew right away something was wrong."

"I see." England sighed as he sat back down with ease again. "Well, he seems to be doing better than he was initially. He was awake for a little bit before."

"He was awake?" Peter questioned eagerly, looking back at the American.

"Yes, England replied nodding. "Unfortunately he didn't really say much." Sighing he tried to remain calm, seeing as a new person was in the room.

"I see." This time Peter seemed rather quiet. "Well, is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not really," Arthur sighed, turning his direction out the window. "But I do have some things I need to look into." He slowly began to stand up. "Visiting hours are almost over anyways. Care to walk downstairs with me?" He didn't know Peter well enough and didn't want to leave America alone with anyone, even if this was a friend of Alfred's.

Peter looked back at America one more time and then nodded. "Sleep well, my friend," he said quietly and then smiled slightly as he slowly sunk his hands into his pockets. Turning toward the door, he motioned for England to follow him.

Arthur and Peter slowly walked down the hallway having small talk with each other.

"Yes, he was always rather the hyper one!" Peter laughed, referring to America.

"Oh believe me, I know," Arthur replied with a wistful smile. "I did raise him after all."

"You raised him?" Peter questioned. "How is that possible? You look the same age."

England laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well actually, we couldn't be further apart in age. But you're human, so I guess you wouldn't know that." He paused a moment as he began to explain. "Have you ever heard about the nations?"

Peter tilted his head to the side in confusion. "I haven't actually. What do you mean?"

Arthur sighed, seeing as America never bothered to actually explain to his friend how he actually worked. Clearing his throat, Arthur began. "In this world, there are two types of people you could say. Regular human people and then nations. Nations are people that are created from a countries 'personality' I guess you could say." He paused for emphasis. "They aren't like ordinary people. They live as long as the country they represent and they have traits according to the major overwhelming statistics their country presents."

"So like their personality reflects the overall populous?" Peter questioned.

"Yes, exactly." England smiled.

"I see." Peter nodded. "So in other words, a country is only as strong at the people who support it?"

"I guess, in short terms yes." England smiled. "But it doesn't just stop there." He paused. "Each country has a certain power that they can use. I'm very good at tunnels, traps and a bit of magic, while America is un-humanly strong."

"I guess that would make sense why he survived the plane crash then," Peter commented. "He was probably goofing around and accidentally turned off auto-pilot or something."

England paused, thinking back to what Alfred said. "Yeah-or something," he commented quietly. Sighing, he realized they had already reached the exit. "Well then," he nodded. "It was nice meeting one of Alfred's friends." He smiled at Peter and went to shake his hand again.

"Likewise," Peter replied with a smile as he started pushing open the door. "It was nice meeting Alfred's older brother, but now if you'll disculpe me, I'm going to go get some dinner. Some pasta sounds wunderbar." Grinning the man turned away, exiting the building.

England tilted his head in confusion and quietly said, "What an odd man." He then too quickly exited the building. "I wonder what he was doing in England?"


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: So uh... this chapter, along with a few more, are slightly crossoverish with BBC's show Sherlock... as in Sherlock and John make an appearance. But you don't really need to know the characters to understand what's going on. Also, please review!**

Arthur walked through the busy London streets, his head clouded. He knew that he couldn't just follow this Peter man around. The man knew what he looked like and while to the other nations he seemed like a good spy, all in all he wasn't. At least not on his own.

It seemed like his feet knew just where to take him as his mind wondered. Suddenly the nation realized he was standing in front of a dark door with gold numbers on the outside.

"221B Baker Street," Arthur muttered to himself before knocking on the door. "The home of one Sherlock Holmes."

He could hear shouting from inside before the door finally unlocked. The man who answered the door was of average height, if not a few inches shorter than the nation. He was wearing a cream colored jumper and jeans.

"Hello," the man said looking Arthur over. "Can I help you?"

England was surprised to see that the eccentric detective had finally found a flat mate. "Yes. I'm looking for Sherlock Holmes," Arthur told the man.

Sherlock's flat mate pursed his lips before saying, "Right. Right this way." He allowed the nation to enter. England followed the man up the stairs.

"Who is it John?" Arthur could hear Sherlock call as the two entered the living room. Sherlock was wearing his signature suit and was laying on the couch. He had his hand steepled under his chin, obviously deep in thought.

John turned to England. "I'm sorry, I don't think I got your name."

"Arthur Kirkland," England replied. He watched as Sherlock sat up. John was startled by this action as well and gave Sherlock a surprised look.

"Good to see you again England. It's been ages hasn't it?" Sherlock asked as he looked the nation up and down.

"I suppose it has been yes," Arthur replied as he took a seat in one of the wooden dining chairs near the cluttered table. "How's Mycroft?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and asked, "You would know better than I do. He does run your government for you."

England let out a small laugh. "Not all of it. But enough about that. I have a case for you that I think you'll be quite interested in."

"Please tell me it doesn't involve that obnoxious American again," Sherlock groaned as he stood and strolled around the room. "I think he blew up one of my experiments last time. And don't get me started on what he did with my chemicals."

"Actually I need some information," England said ignoring the question. "Alfred's plane crashed on the outskirts of London. Someone shot him down. He's in the hospital and you know how hard it is for one of us to get that injured. I haven't seen him this hurt since his civil war. I had no idea that a missile even went off. Then this man named Peter Williamson turned up at the hospital. Something isn't right here and I want you to find out what."

Sherlock nodded as John tried to scribble down everything England was saying. "Don't worry Arthur. We'll figure it out," Sherlock told one of his only friends. Even though the two weren't close the youngest Holmes brother knew everything about the nation, having been enthralled with the knowledge of them when he was young. So he knew just how England felt about America.

England let out a small sigh. "Thank you," he said quietly before standing. He let himself out of the flat and back onto the busy London street.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Yay! More John and Sherlock! Also reviews give us life so please review!**

Arthur started to walk down the street, but quickly stopped, realizing he had completely forgotten to give Sherlock a description of Peter. Walking back to the flat, he let himself in almost as if he had never left. "Sherlock?" he quickly questioned, looking back up the stair well.

"We're still upstairs," John poked his head outside the door, staring at England. "What did you need?"

"I bloody forgot to tell you Peter's description." He smiled sheepishly, quick jogging up the stairs.

"He has brown hair, lanky build and is a rather pale fellow, correct?" Sherlock asked sitting in his black leather chair.

"Why yes, but how did you-?" England stared in bewilderment.

"Obvious deduction, my friend." Sherlock replied. "Now leave. I need to think."

"Of course." England nodded. "Sorry to bother you again."

"Don't worry about it," John said trying to cover for Sherlock's obvious lack of social skills.

"Did you notice this man had any quirks? Stutters, anything out of the ordinary?" the consulting detective suddenly asked.

England pondered for a moment as he had to think. "Well his English was rather broken as we departed," the nation said before he paused. "If I'm correct he jumped from English, to Spanish, to German."

"Well then," Sherlock said standing. "Shall we go, John?" He turned to England, nodding as if telling him he may leave.

"And just where are we going?" John asked as Sherlock went to leave the room.

"To the crash site. Obviously this whole mess started there," came the brash reply.

"Are you going to look for debris of the rocket?" England questioned looking between the two.

"Of course not," Sherlock scoffed. "We're going to look for your friend "Peter Williamson", an obvious alias."

England nodded, seeing he was of no further use. He quickly turned around and left the flat this time for good.

Sherlock reached over and grabbed his coat and scarf off of the hook. "Coming John?" Grabbing the door handle, he stepped outside of the flat and began walking down the street.

When the pair reached the crash site, Sherlock looked back and forth trying to focus his vision, seeing as it was already dark outside.

"This couldn't have waited until morning?" John complained, looking at the wreckage.

"None of the evidence will be here by morning," Sherlock replied, stepping closer to the plane.

"What do you mean?" John asked as he bent down to look at the shards of metal.

"Think about it," Sherlock said standing. "If you shot an American plane down in the middle of England, you wouldn't want people to track you. So first think you're going to do is get rid of the missile you hit the plane with."

"There would be so many fragments, there's no way a person could collect them all."

"That's the thing," Sherlock squatted down next to John, picking up a piece of metal. "This wasn't a person." Standing up, he held a flashlight up to the metal, observing it carefully.

"Not a person?" John was confused, as he focused his gaze on the object Sherlock was holding. "What do you mean?"

"We're dealing with a nation."

John paused a moment. "A nation? But how is that possible? There are no new nations."

"That the media currently knows of." Sherlock set the piece back on the ground before he pulled out his pocket magnifying glass. "But if you actually look into private information about different countries, you'll have known Germany, Italy, and Spain all dropped off the map as of yesterday. Their countries have come to a complete halt."

"What? How is that possible? And why hasn't the media said anything?"

"They don't want the people living in the country to go into a panic. Without a nation, it's impossible for the country to continue." Sherlock looked around the clearing, taking in his surroundings.

"But the countries are still technically running, which means those Nations still need to be alive."

"Obvious deduction John," Sherlock replied before he clicked the flashlight off, leaving the two in total darkness.

"Where do you think they are?" John asked looking up at Sherlock.

"That," Sherlock paused, "I don't know yet. But I'm sure a new nation is at fault for this."

"What makes you think that? That seems like an odd deduction, even for you."

The detective steepled his fingers under his chin again. "I see it this way, America was on his way to visit Germany when his plane was shot down here. I'm assuming after Germany didn't reply to any of his calls, since he was missing, America decided to fly over."

"And how did you come to that?"

Sherlock smiled as he turned back and pointed at the debris. "That piece of metal we were looking at. It's actually part of a coordinates system that built into every American plane. If you looked very carefully, you'll see the coordinates he was going to were directly in Germany."

John looked like he was going to say something then paused. "So you're saying that this new nation didn't want America to make it to Germany?"

"It's a possibility. Or maybe, the new nation was already in England. Don't you find it odd that America was shot down so close to England's home? And the job itself was very sloppy, almost as if it was decided at last minute? You can tell by how the missile entered the back of the plane's tail." Sherlock paused stroking his chin.

"I did notice that actually," John commented.

"It was almost like they were trying to kill two birds with one st-"

"Buonasera, gentlemen!" A sudden voice came from the clearing behind them.

Sherlock paused as he slowly turned around, seeing a dark figure approaching them. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed his flashlight flicking it on. Peter, stopped as the bright light hit his eyes, "Oh-a my!" he laughed, trying to shield the light. "That-a thing sure is-a bright!" He sauntered forward slowly, sinking his hands back into his pocket.

"You have a very thick Italian accent," Sherlock commented, looking rather unamused.

Peter only laughed, waving it off casually. "I guess-a you could say that, my friend."

"Well then," Sherlock lifted a single eye brow. "Now that I can see you for myself, I can clearly see I was right."

"What are you talking about?" Peter's accent suddenly disappeared.

"You're obviously a sick mish mash of the missing countries. Your sense of style alone is a weird twist between German and Italian while your hair style indicates you're Spanish."

Peter suddenly started to laugh as he slowly pulled his hands out of his pockets. "I guess they don't call you a great detective for nothing." He grinned menacingly. "You're right, I am a nation and you may call me New World."

"That's a terrible name for a nation," Sherlock scoffed, remaining rather calm.

"Haha, is it?" New World grinned as he slowly began to back up. "I figured it would suit me well. Just imagine, an entire world, ruled under one nation." He laughed. "World peace."

"That definitely sounds terrible," John chimed in. "Merging everyone and destroying diversity would start World War III!"

"Would it now?" New World snickered. "I guess we'll just have to find out." He clicked his nails together, remaining smug.

John stared at the man, his brow furrowing. "So where exactly are the other nations?" He snarled, his old soldier reflexes kicking back in.

New World tilted his head to the side in a distorted manner, "Why don't you ask your friend? I'm sure he knows by now."

John turned his gaze to Sherlock, only to see the man staring at the nation in pure disgust. "What?!" John questioned.

Sherlock looked over at Watson and sighed. "He's absorbing them. Every nation has an ability, I'm assuming his is some form of absorption."

"You really are as clever as they say." New World laughed, "But too bad, you're only a man." He suddenly lunged forward grabbing John by the neck and holding him against the plane. "So let me put this for you very clearly," he paused, his grin growing wide and psychotic. "Stay out of my way. I let you know my plan, because frankly, I know you can't stop me. So you can go back and tell England whatever the hell you want. I don't care." He squeezed harder, cutting off John's wind pipe. "But let me warn you," he slowly turned his head towards Sherlock. "Don't try to get in my way again. It'd be a pity if John suddenly stopped breathing." He gently stroked the man's face, suddenly dropping him. John fell to his knees gasping for air. "As I absorb the countries, I absorb their abilities. I'm sure you already know Germany's, so let's all just play nice." Smirking, he slowly began to walk away. "To be honest, I was surprised England showed up when he did. I was going to absorb America right then and there, but like you said, two birds with one stone."

"We're not just letting you walk away!" John cried as he lunged to his feet. He suddenly started to sprint forward.

"JOHN NO!" Sherlock tried to reach out and stop him but it was too late.

New World slowly turned around, giving John a brief glare. And it was instantaneous. Within seconds, the former army doctor could feel a sharp pain run through his chest, causing him to collapse to the ground.

New World began to laugh manically. "Like I said, what a shame." Chuckling, he disappeared into the woods, covered by the shadow of night.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Reviews are love. Reviews are life. So please review!**

Sherlock ran over and helped John to his feet. They both watched as the new nation disappeared into the shadows. John ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair as he looked at the detective. "What do we do now?" he asked his flat mate.

But they both knew that there was only one thing to do. "We tell England and get to America as fast as we can. Hopefully Arthur can warn the other nations before it's too late," the detective replied quietly, still staring at the last spot New World had been standing.

Across town, England had just reached his home. It was a modest flat but there were so many memories hidden in the smallest places that the nation just couldn't give it up. Just standing on the stairs that led to the door gave him memories.

 _It was an unusually bright and sunny day for the normally dreary town of London. America sat on the steps that led into the flat he shared with England, enjoying the sun. That's when he spotted him. England was walking down the street. In his hands were two ice cream cones topped with a mountain of the cold treat._

 _Little America watched as his big brother drew closer, his bright blue eyes filled with wonder. "England!" he cried with excitement._

 _The older nation smiled at his little brother as he finally reached the steps. "I brought you a treat champ," he said handing one of the cones to America._

 _America took a big bite out of the frosty treat before he made a face. England laughed at his reaction. "Easy buddy. It's a bit cold."_

 _"Now you tell me!" the little nation cried before taking a tentative lick of his ice cream. "But I like it."_

 _"I'm glad," England said taking a seat on the steps next to America._

 _Together the two nations enjoyed their treat as they sat side by side, watching the people go by._

Arthur smiled at the old memory. That was when America was young. He was so small when he first started out as a nation. But England cared for him every step of the way.

His smile soon faded as his mind flashed to Alfred laying in that hospital bed, covered in cuts and bruises.

England shook his head trying to clear his clouded thoughts as he let himself into his flat. He slumped into one of his dining room chairs, utterly exhausted. The nation glanced up to see the hole in the wall that America had made when he was nothing but a teenager.

 _England glanced up from his tea as he heard America's laugh ring through the flat. Then there was the sound of something breaking. Those two sounds combined was usually not a good sign._

 _Arthur rushed to his feet and scrambled to the dining room to see Alfred standing on the table, a hole the size of his fist in the wall not too far from him._

 _"What the bloody hell happened?" England demanded as America looked at his feet sheepishly, his hand clasped behind his back._

 _"I was just playing around, I swear!" the younger nation replied as he finally met those disapproving green eyes._

 _England let out a sigh. "Are you hurt?" he asked, concern for his younger brother evident in his voice._

 _America held out his hand. "I guess I don't know my own strength," he said quietly as Arthur inspected his hand. Small cuts from the wall covered the back of his hand and the older nation knew that there would be bruises on his knuckles soon._

 _"You need to be more careful America," England told the young nation. "You need to learn your own strength and how to properly use it."_

 _"Yes England," America replied, looking down again. He knew he disappointed his big brother again and was ashamed of his foolishness._

 _Arthur, sensing the tension in the air, said, "How about we get your hand cleaned up and then we can play a game, okay?"_

 _The blue eyed teen nodded excitedly and rushed to the bathroom laughing. England smiled after him, amazed at just how big the nation was getting. Within a year or two he would probably outgrow the older nation. England heard another crash and shook his head, running to the bathroom to see what trouble the teen had gotten into this time._

England's eyes filled with tears as he stared at the hole. He had always meant to patch it up but just never got around to it. Now, he was glad he didn't.

With a sigh the nation stood and moved upstairs. What he needed was sleep. Arthur slowly walked into his bedroom. He opened his closet to look for his pajamas when he saw it. The flash of red he hadn't seen in a long time.

 _They were standing in the pouring rain, mud everywhere. England stood on one side while America, backed by his soldiers, stood on the other. Each had muskets pointed at the other._

 _"I only want my freedom! I am no longer a child nor your little brother! I'll be independent from you from now on!" America cried._

 _England stared at the man the nation had become, his little brother, before he charged. He ran at Alfred and cried, "I won't allow it!" as he jammed his bayonet into the other's gun._

 _America's gun went flying and landed in the mud far from where the nation stood. England had his musket trained on the nation, out of breath. "This is why I say you don't follow thing through to the end, you idiot," England panted._

 _The older nation barely heard the yell of "Fire!" and didn't even register the American soldiers pointing their weapons at him. All he could focus on were those big blue eyes that showed every emotion that played across America's face._

 _America stared at the bayonet pointed at him and gasped when it lowered. England knew that he couldn't do it. "There's no way I could shoot you is there you idiot?" the nation asked quietly as he dropped his gun. He knew deep within him that he had to let America go. No matter how hard he tried he wouldn't be able to keep the nation in his protection forever. "Damnit why?! Damnit!" England cried as he fell to his knees, sobs making his shoulders shake._

 _"England," America whispered, watching as the nation fell to pieces, his own heart breaking in the process as he remembered when England first took him into his home. "You were so great once…"_

Tears made their way down England's face as he tore the coat from the hanger. He threw it across the room before he fell to his knees sobbing.

"America…" he whispered between sobs.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Please review!**

"Sounds like you're having a rough time," a sudden voice asked from the corner of the room.

England jumped to his feet as he whipped around to see a dark silhouette standing there, casting a shadow in his direction. "Who's there?" he darted for the hand gun that was laying on the dresser near him.

"Oh come now," the voice cooed. "Do you honestly feel the need to shoot me?" The figure stepped out of the shadows, smiling brightly.

England looked at the figure, feeling as though he recognized him from somewhere. His black pea coat, his familiar red scarf, but his hair was blonde and shoulder length.

"Are you wearing a wig, Peter?" England couldn't help but be blunt, feeling rather confused.

"I guess they haven't gotten here yet then, have they?" The man only smiled as he slowly sat on the bed. "Shame, I was hoping they would have the exposition filled in for me."

England squinted, still trying to focus on him. Something about his hair style looked so familiar. Raising only his hand he pointed to the man's head. "Extensions?"

Peter laughed as he ran a hand through his locks, sticking the tail end in his mouth. "Je avais faim," he said as he grinned, raising his eyebrows in a seductive manner.

England paused, recognizing the language to be French. That's when it clicked. "You have the frog's hair style!"

"Oui oui, monsieur." The man slowly began to stand up, tilting his head in England's direction.

"What is going on here?" England was in no mood for games. "I demand you explain immediately."

"I already explained everything to your little detective friends," the man replied before he laughed, sauntering closer to the nation. He slowly began to run his hand down his jacket, unbuttoning it along the way. "It's not my fault they didn't make it here before me."

England grabbed the gun and cocked it, pointing it at the man. "Explain immediately, or get out of my house."

Peter paused, as he continued to suck on the end of one of his locks of hair. "Fine then," he snickered. "Call me New World. I'm a Nation. And I'm here to kill you." He opened his eyes widely, giving the craziest expression possible.

A sudden rush of pain enveloped England's body as he went crashing to the floor, dropping the gun.

"What the bloody hell?" England asked as he laid on his back clutching his stomach in utter distress.

"Such a pity," New World said as he placed his foot on England's chest, pinning him to the floor. "You're so pretty. I really don't want to kill you, but I need your power." He slowly began to sit down on top of the man's stomach, grabbing his wrists and effectively pinning him down.

"Get the bloody hell off me! What the hell is wrong with you?!" England cried as he struggled against Peter, but this man was freakishly strong, leaving the older nation helpless.

"I'm sorry," New World leaned in close, so his face was mere inches from Arthurs. "But since I ate France, I just can't help myself." He leaned in, slowly placing a kiss on Arthur's lips. "I could do this all night."

"Fuck! Get off me!" Arthur thrashed around, spitting at the man in disgust.

"Come now," New World grinned, hovering over the man as he wiped the nation's spit from his face. "I'm not that bad as a French man, am I?" He slowly slipped off his own belt as he used it to restrain the nation to the dresser legs behind him. "Now, let's have some fun."


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Reviews make us so happy! So please leave one!**

 **TRIGGER WARNING: RAPE SCENE AHEAD PLEASE BE AWARE IF THIS EVENT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO YOU PLEASE DO NOT READ IT PLEASE JUST SKIP TO THE NEXT CHAPTER**

England bucked his hips trying to throw the other nation off balance, but it was to no avail. New World straddled his hips and leaned over him. "You know," Peter whispered in his ear. "The other nations think that you're not as attractive as some. But I think you're beautiful."

Before Arthur could respond Peter attacked his lips once again. The new nation nipped at England's bottom lip trying to force his mouth open. New World ran his hands over England's chest, popping each button on the green jacket open as he went. Upset that Arthur wouldn't grant him entrance into his mouth New World grabbed England's jaw and forced the other's mouth open. Peter shoved his tongue into the warm cavern that was Arthur's mouth. He mapped out every crevice and tooth in the other's mouth.

"Tsk tsk Arthur, so many layers," New World commented as he finally pulled away from the Britain's mouth. He looked England over and took note of the tie around the other's neck as well as the light green button up.

"GET THE BLOODY HELL OFF OF ME!" Arthur screamed trying to buck the other man off once again.

New World smirked. "I don't think that's gonna happen anytime soon pretty boy," he said as he undid England's tie. Peter took the tie and used it as a gag to keep the temperamental nation quiet. New World undid Arthur's shirt next before leaning down. "Mmhh, you're more muscular than I expected," the new nation commented running his hands over the chest and abs below him.

Insulted, Arthur went to tell Peter off but everything that came out from his mouth was muffled by his tie.

"Hhmm…" New World said pulling away from his prey, his red eyes glowing with lust. "I think now would be a great time to get rid of these." Peter undid the green pants that covered England's legs. He pulled them down along with the union jack boxers that Arthur was wearing.

England was beginning to grow fearful now. Was New World actually going to go through with this?

"Relax," the red eyed nation said into his ear before he nipped at it. "At least I'm prepping you." But the older nation just couldn't get his muscles to relax.

England let out a sigh of relief as New World pulled away from him. But then he heard the telltale noise of a zipper being undone. Bucking, Arthur tried to move away from the crazed nation but only moved the dresser instead.

"Relax Arthur and this will be much more enjoyable for both of us," Peter said as he slowly slid into England. "God, you're so tight," he moaned out as he started to thrust into England.

Tears ran down England's face as he was violated in one of the worse way possible. The nation knew that he didn't have long left. Once New World was done with his body he'd be absorbed. He turned his head from looking at the red eyed monster hovering over him to stare at the wall not far from where he lay. Arthur tried to think of anything else besides the nation currently taking advantage of him.

Suddenly there was a knock at the front door. New World paused while England made no motion to acknowledge that he even heard the noise. A few moments there was another knock, but this one more persistent.

Then a voice yelled through the door, "Arthur!"

It was Sherlock.

"I'll be back for you love," New World said as he pressed a kiss to England's still gagged lips. The red eyed nation stood and zipped up his pants. He moved to the bedroom door, casting one last glance at his captive, before leaving the room.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Sorry about that last chapter. But please review!**

England lay there in utter disgrace, tears still streaming down his face. "Oh god, why…" Arthur thought as he tried to move the gag from between his lips and free his hands.

It wasn't a second later that Sherlock busted through the door with John, seeing the miserable nation laying broken on the floor.

"Oh God!" John cried as he quickly ran to England's aid, untying the poor man. "What happened?"

England slowly sat up as he pulled his clothing back on, tears still pouring down his face. "I…I'm sorry. I need a minute," the nation said as he stood. He went into the bathroom where he proceeded to lock the door and weep. He felt awful, he felt weak, and he felt…broken. His pride was smudged and his dignity was kicked aside like some lost dog.

He looked up at his reflection in the mirror, snarling with disgust. "Some man you are!" he shouted, punching the mirror as it shattered. The broken pieces of glass broke the flesh around his knuckles, blood dripping onto the white tile counter. Screaming, he leaned against the wall, sliding down to the floor in defeat, drawing his knees to his chest. "Oh god…" he whimpered. "Wh-Why that…" Sobs wracked his body as he gasped for air.

"Arthur!" Sherlock was banging on the other side of the door. "Open the door immediately!"

England cupped his face in his hands and continued to weep, unable to pull himself together. He had been through wars, trauma, death, but never something like this. It wasn't only the violation of his body that bothered him, but the fact he was terrified of this new nation. The fact he could swallow up anyone at any moment was horrifying. Nobody should have that much control of another person's life. Nobody.

"Arthur, please!" John chimed in, trying to coax him out. "Please."

England shook his head, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Arthur," he coughed to himself. "Pull yourself together." Sighing, he slowly forced himself off the bathroom floor and unlocked the door. "Sorry about that," he said as he forced himself to smile, trying to think of something else. "What did you chaps find out?"

Sherlock sighed, seeing right through Arthur's show. But he also knew they didn't have a lot of time. He quickly went into exact detail of everything that had taken place in the woods near the broken air craft.

"I see." England sighed, wiping his eye again. "So wait," he paused, "During that time that he talked to you, he was also able to go all the way to France, and then come here?"

"I found that odd as well," Sherlock retorted. "So either France was already in England, or he may have had somebody go there to take him."

England shuttered at the thought of a nation that was able to absorb others. Coughing, he paused as a sudden terrifying thought popped in his head. "Oh my god," he quickly started running for the door, "America is alone in the hospital!"

A figure sauntered down the corridor of the hospital, dragging his finger along the walls and humming casually. "And they sang bye bye, Miss American pie..." The man paused his singing as he stopped in front of a very specific room. Grabbing the handle, he slowly pushed the door open to see Alfred's body sleeping quietly. The man grinned as he continued again, "Singing this will be the day that you diiiiiiiiiiiie..."


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Whoo... Drama! Love me some drama! Please review!**

England raced through the streets of London not caring who he ran into along the way. Sherlock and John tried to keep up with the nation but fell behind as they couldn't run as fast.

He skidded to a stop as he reached the doors of the hospital. He rushed inside and didn't stop again until he reached Alfred's room. He threw the door open only to be met with those red eyes.

"What's up homie?" New World asked, his voice taking on a scary imitation of America's voice.

Over the new nation's shoulder however, Arthur could still America, lying motionless on his hospital bed. He was pale though, paler than he should have been. And skinny too. He hadn't been that stick thin since the great depression.

"Stay away from him," England growled, his hands balling into fists.

"Really?" New World asked, looking the other nation over. "You honestly think you can fight me? I've already absorbed most of America. With his strength already combined with most of mine, you are a bug under my boot."

"I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that he stays safe," Arthur retorted, his anger bubbling to the surface over the fear he felt at seeing the new nation once again. "Alfred is my brother. I'll protect him no matter the cost."

New World blinked and suddenly England doubled over in pain. He coughed and blood trickled out of his mouth. Peter watched as the older nation slowly died. Germany's power did have its fantastic advantages. "After I take you two all I have left to take is Japan, China, and Russia. Then I'll control the major countries of world."

"You called?" a voice asked from the doorway. New World and England looked up to see a tall man with violet eyes standing in the doorway.

"Russia," England whispered right before he passed out.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Ahahaha I love Russia. Reviews make us write more! So please give us some!**

The man slowly sauntered into the room, that psychopathic grin spread wide across his face. "You called, da?" He kneeled down to make sure that England was still alive but never broke eye contact with the new nation.

New World stared at the man momentarily as he quickly cut off his link to America. "What are you doing in London?" he scoffed, sinking a hand into his pocket.

"Oh you know," Russia smiled. "It's not every day so many Nations go missing and end up in London. I thought I'd join the party."

New World raised a single eye brow in annoyance as he slowly began to walk towards the window. Russia gave England a hard shake and the nation woke up. Sitting up he looked around and saw Peter near the window.

"Don't even think about it!" Arthur yelled, jumping up and rushing forward. But New World was much younger and quicker as he busted through the glass, diving five stories bellow. England popped his head out the window, looking bellow to see just an empty pavement. "How the bloody hell did he survive that?"

"Don't worry." Russia only grinned as he walked towards America's bed. "He will not go far." Sitting down next to the American, he raised his hands as he began to chant.

"Woa, what are you doing?" England quickly rushed in, pulling Russia's hands away from the American. He knew the two didn't have a very good relationship, and although he didn't think Ivan would kill Alfred, he didn't necessarily trust him either.

"I understand your concern, Arthur. But right now, all of the nations are in trouble." Pushing the man away, Russia placed his hand on the American's forehead. He then quickly broke out into a chant.

England couldn't believe his eyes as he watched Russia in shock. America's body was starting to glow as the stitching and wounds suddenly began to heal and disappear until his body looked brand new and youthful.

Ivan smiled as he pulled his hand away, sighing with relief. "He will be okay," the taller nation told him.

"Why didn't you bloody tell me you were Jesus!?" England quickly stood up, pointing drastically at the Russian.

"I am not." Ivan smiled. "My magic is simply better than yours."

"Why don't you use that more often then?" England belted out, ignoring the obvious insult. "You could have helped so many people!"

"Well for one," Russia commented, "It only works on nations, and two I can only do it once a year. I only have so many resources you know. Think about it almost as if my government bailed out America's government from country ceasing bankruptcy."

"Oh," England paused, still in disbelief. Shaking his head, he quickly ran to America's bedside, grabbing the nation by the shoulder. "America! Alfred, wake up!"

The young nation's eyes slowly began to flicker as he began to yawn. "Five more minutes, yo." He rolled over onto his side, hugging the pillow.

"Bloody hell, America!" Arthur yelled. "Are you actually healed?"

The young nation rolled onto his back, rubbing his eyes. "What are you yelling for?" He opened his eyes, looking around him. "Dude, am I in a hospital?" Sitting up, he looked at his arms filled with IV's. "What the hell happened, yo?"


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Review are amazing! Please leave one!**

"It's a long story," England said scratching the back of his head, wondering just how much he should tell America. "But basically a new nation called New World showed up and started absorbing countries. He's gotten France, Germany, Italy, and Spain so far. He shot your plane down and you crashed here. That's how you ended up here in the hospital."

"Woah dude, I was wondering why Germany wasn't returning any of my calls!" America said rubbing his head. "I think I need a burger though."

Arthur sighed. Of course the first thing America would want would be those disgusting hamburgers. "You can think about food later. Right now we have a bigger problem on our hands."

Alfred looked up at England in confusion and asked, "Wait, you said I was in a plane crash right? Then how am I healed?"

The two nations looked at Russia, who was standing at the foot of the bed smiling. "I healed you," he said simply.

America flailed in his bed, "You did what now?!"

"Oh calm down America. New World had almost killed you and you weren't going to last much longer. So yes, Ivan healed you," England explained.

"That's so cool man! How come you don't heal people all the time?" America asked, his eyes lighting up with childish wonder.

Arthur let Russia explain the situation as he smiled to side, glad to see that Alfred was back to his old self.

"So what's the plan?" Alfred asked once Ivan was done speaking. "I think I should be the hero and go after this New World and kick his ass!"

"Alfred, this New World overpowered me. You can't go against him alone," Arthur said, shivering as he thought back to Peter hovering over him, taking advantage of him.

The faraway look in England's eyes did not go unnoticed by America, but he chose not to say anything about it now. "So what do we do?" he asked instead.

"We should get China and Japan here, da?" Russia asked looking between the two other nations.

"No," England said shaking his head. "The less nations here the harder it will be for New World to eat all of us. We should just let them know what's going on but keep them at their homes. They'll be safer that way."

"Okay then, what do we do?" America asked once again.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Sorry it's so short! Please review!**

England looked down at the floor, a wave of cold emptiness rushing over him. "I… I don't know." He paused as he glanced toward the window. He felt helpless. The only reason New World left was because he didn't want to run into Russia and England at the same time. This gave him a sudden idea. Turning his gaze to Ivan he coughed slightly, "Russia." He paused, "Would you care to join me? I think we should go after him."

"This sounds like a plan!" America quickly sat up, ready for action.

"What makes you so certain we should do this?" Russia just crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.

"You have your ice powers. At least we can freeze him in place while we try to find some sort of holding capacity for him." England was grabbing at straws, but he didn't know what else to do.

"And you think this will work?" Russia questioned. "He probably has ran very far from here already."

"Do you have a better plan?" England questioned, waiting for a response.

"I like it!" America quickly jumped out of his bed, throwing the sheets aside. "Let's go, homies!"


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Again, sorry it's so short. Reviews are amazing! Please please please leave us one!**

New World glanced over his shoulder as the hospital shrank in the distance. So far there was no sign of any of the countries following him. But he couldn't tell for sure.

With Russia's insanity anything was possible. But oh what an amazing country he would be to absorb. Just thinking of what he could do with all that power gave New World fantasies.

Back at the hospital America peered out the window. He couldn't see New World but he was sure that he was out there. He suddenly turned back to the other two nations in the room. "Well what are we waiting for dudes?! Let's go!" he cried rushing from the room, obviously not caring that everyone could see his American flag boxers through the back of his hospital gown.

"Alfred!" Arthur cried chasing after his friend. "You need clothes first!"

Russia calmly exited the room, a grin on his face. He followed the two countries yelling until he reached the exit. "Well at least I now know what Alfred's butt looks like," he said to himself as he walked.

Arthur finally got a hold of America, as well as a clean nurse's uniform as the clothes Alfred arrived in were destroyed.

"Let's get back to my place. We can start looking for New World there…" Arthur told the other two nations as they regrouped near the exit. Although the Britain wasn't sure if he wanted to go back to his own home, the place where New World raped him.

Noticing the faraway look on Arthur's face, Alfred asked, "You okay man?"

England looked up at the nation he had raised. "I'm fine," he said with a fake smile. "Let's get going."


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: Gah... it's short again. Sorry! Please review!**

America could tell there was something off about England, but he couldn't figure out what. Sighing, he shrugged his shoulders, quickly following the older nation to his house. "I say we should go directly after him," America stated, voicing his opinion.

"We are," Britain retorted, grabbing the American by the wrist. He mumbled under his breath, "I have a feeling he'll be going back to my place."

America followed quietly this time, observing the nation very carefully. "Okay, bro," he muttered in response.

Reaching England's house, the trio stepped inside, looking around abruptly.

"There is nobody here," Russia commented, waving his hand.

"Good," Arthur sighed in relief, hoping for as much. He wanted to just run and hide from this nation, but he knew that wasn't an option. If he didn't go to him, then he knew New World would come to them.

"What's for dinner?" America looked up at the clock, realizing it was already 7pm. "I'm hungry."

"Just a moment, America." England looked at Russia, almost as if they were speaking telepathically.

"Agreed." Russian smiled as he slowly disappeared into the living room.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: My poor baby England! Please review!**

America looked between where Russia had just disappeared to and England bewildered. "Dude! Did you just like mind speak with Russia?!" he cried.

Arthur smirked. "Don't be silly Alfred. There's no such thing as telepathy," the older nation replied with a smirk before strolling to the kitchen. "Didn't you say you were hungry Alfred?" he called to the shocked American.

America shook his head before rushing to the kitchen to see what England was making. He sat at the counter just like he did when he was a kid. Man, Arthur seriously needed to update his style. It still looks like how it did when he was younger.

"I have ingredients for fish and chips or beef stew. What would you like Alfred?" England asked as he searched through his refrigerator.

"Awe man, you don't have stuff for hamburgers?" America whined from where he sat.

"You're not eating those disgusting things in my house," Arthur retorted standing and giving America a look.

"Ugh, fine," Alfred said with a sigh. "Beef stew."

England smiled at him before getting everything ready. The kitchen fell silent as Arthur worked. "You know, you don't have to stay in those nurse's scrubs. You keep a spare uniform here. It's in the guest bedroom."

"I totally forgot!" America cried jumping off his chair. "Thanks man!" The blue eyed nation ran up the stairs heading for the guest bedroom. But he couldn't help but notice that England's bedroom door was partially open. "That's strange. England rarely leaves his door open," Alfred said to himself.

Slowly he pushed the door the rest of the way open. Frowning he looked around the room. A belt was tied to the legs of the dresser but had been cut. There was also blood on the floor near the dresser. Across the room he could see the red of England's old overcoat. It looked like it had been tossed aside.

"Alfred Fredrick Jones!"

America quickly turned to see England standing there.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Arthur asked him crossing his arms over his chest, his green eyes cold. "You know that my bedroom is off limits."

Alfred felt as if he were a child again, being scolded by England after he had done something wrong. But he couldn't help his curiosity. "What happened?" he asked quietly, motioning to the dresser, which had a fairly large dent in from when England had been struggling.

America noticed the immediate change in Arthur's eyes as he looked at the spot. "Nothing of your concern," England said quickly before walking over and slamming the door shut. "Now go get dressed. Dinner will be ready soon."

The younger nation went to do as he was told. But he couldn't shake the feeling that England was hiding something.

New World watched as England moved around the kitchen, preparing dinner for the two other nations.

"Soon my love," he whispered to himself as he turned away from the flat. "Soon."


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: So uh... yeah... have fun with this one y'all. Also please review!**

After they had finished dinner, England collected the dishes and placed them in the dish washer.

"So what now?" America questioned, as he looked toward the TV hoping to eat junk food and binge watch movies all night.

England looked at his watch, gasping at the time. "It's already time for bed. Today has been hectic for all of us."

"Come on, homie!" America laughed, "I'm not five anymore. I know how to get enough sleep. Let's just chill and watch a movie."

Russia glared at the American, as if telling him a different story. Feeling rather intimidated, America coughed as he sighed, "Actually I am rather tired." Sighing, he glared back at Russia as he slowly climbed the stairs to the guest bedroom.

Arthur turned toward Russia and smiled. "Thank you," he said as he nodded. "I hate to be strict on him, but he's going to need his rest if he's going to get through this alive."

Ivan only nodded. "You should get some sleep as well."

England paused a moment, hating the thought to go back into that dismal room.

"Do not worry," Russia said with a smile. "I will keep watch all night."

"Don't you need rest yourself?" England questioned, rather nervous.

"I am Russian. All I need is vodka." Grinning the man slowly stood up as he walked into the living room, pulling a bottle from the inside of his coat. "Good night, England," he chuckled before disappearing into the other room.

England was hesitant at first, but then slowly nodded as he also began to climb the stairs. Russia was the most terrifying person he knew, if anyone could keep New World away, it would be him.

Arthur quickly dressed into his silky pajamas as he slipped under his comforter. It bothered him to think his blood stain was mere feet away from the edge of his bed. "Pull yourself together," he sighed, tugging the blankets over his head and curling into a ball.

It was about midnight when England slowly popped his head out from under the blankets. "It's very cold in here," he observed. "I should probably turn the heat on." Pulling the sheets away from his body, he walked to the other end of the room, touching the thermostat. He was surprised to see his room was at a chilling 46 degrees Fahrenheit. "What the hell?" He cranked the heat up to 70 hoping the heater would kick in soon. "Must be a cold London night." He walked over to his window to see the frost that had grown around the corners of the window pane.

Grabbing the sides of the window, he thought maybe a fresh breath of cold air would make him feel better. Clicking the lock, he opened the window, only to be surprised by a fresh blast of warm air.

Arthur backed up, staring out into the night in shock. "It's warm outside," he stated. "That's when it occurred to him. "Russia." Racing towards his bedroom door, he whipped it open only to run smack into a black silhouette standing in front of it.

Falling backwards, Arthur was a little shaken as he looked up, staring directly into Peter's glowing red eyes.

"Hello, Arthur," Peter said with a grotesque smile, his entire face lit up from his glowing eyes. "Did you miss me?"

Arthur was horrified as he slowly scrambled backwards. "Bu-Bu-But Russia's…"

"Oh you mean this?" Peter slowly raised his hand as a snowflake formed in the mist. "It was like eating a snow cone."

"No," England said as he shook with terror. Not Russia. Russia was the strongest. Russia was the scariest. If he couldn't stop this man, who could?

Peter slowly reached forward, holding his hand out to grab England.

"Don't touch me!" England swatted frantically, trying to keep the man away from him. He wasn't going to go through that again.

"Keep your voice down," Peter cooed as his smile widened. "You might wake up America. But then again, we could always have him join us too." His grin widened into a wicked evil snicker.

Arthur's chest dropped as he thought of poor Alfred being shoved around by this lunatic in such a disgusting manner. "You leave him alone! He's just a child!"

"Technically I am too," New World replied with a grin as he backed England into the wall behind him.

"Leave me alone! Just kill me already!" Tears were starting to flood to England's eyes. He couldn't mentally handle going through something so horrific again.

New World stopped as he stared down at the Nation, watching as the tears streamed down his face. "Tears are so beautiful, da?" he asked in a poor imitation of Russia. The new nation suddenly laughed, his eyes bulging widely. "But then again, so is blood." He suddenly brought his foot up directly into Arthur's stomach, causing drops of blood to fly from the man's mouth as the older nation dropped to his knees. "So if you really hate me fucking you so much, I can settle for beating the living hell out of you." Reaching down he grabbed England by the hair, throwing him across the room and into the dresser.

England tried to scramble to get up, but he wasn't quick enough as New World quickly sat onto of him, repeatedly bashing him in the face with his fists. "Is this fun, England?" He laughed. "Tell me how much fun you're having!" He bit down into England's shoulder until the skin and muscle tissue began to break, squirting blood across the room.

England let out a roar of agony as he tried to grab his shoulder in pain, but New World didn't even let him move. Using Russia's ice crystals, he froze England's left hand to the floor as he continued to punch the man in the face, stomach, chest and ribs. "We could have had something, England." The man laughed as he pushed down on Arthur's chest until he could hear cracking and popping as his ribs began to cave in. "But I guess it wasn't meant to be."

Arthur screamed as tears poured down his face. He tried to fight back, but his single strength compared to that of this new nation's was in no comparison. "Stop!" he kept screaming, kicking and trashing as hard as he could. He continued to kick and scream until he was literally exhausted, his energy gone.

"Is that all you have in you, old man?" New World smiled, grabbing England's other arm, pinning him down. "Pity." He suddenly leaned in again as he planted a small kiss on the nation's bloody lips. "But then again, I guess you can't fight back, so that's a benefit for me." He slowly moved his hand down the nation's blood soaked shirt and he began to unbutton it. "You knew this was going to happen sooner or later, Arthur." Peter only grinned as he removed the nation's shirt. "Ready for round two?"

Arthur didn't move as he just lay there defeated, staring at the blank wall. He even stopped crying as tears he'd already shed dried to his face leaving him blank and empty inside.

New World tilted his head to the side with a smile when Arthur didn't so much as look at him, let alone answer. "Good boy," Peter chuckled. "I think you understand now." He placed his one hand on Arthur's mouth as a black fog slowly began to seep out of his fingertips as it began to linger up his nose. "I'm going to eat you very slowly. And I'm going to enjoy every second," New World said with a crazed smile. He used his other free hand to slowly unzip Arthur's pants as he cast them aside. "Just enjoy these last few minutes you're alive, my friend." New World whispered into his ear as he began to grip the older nation, continuing to pump the life stealing gas into his lungs. "You are mine."

But there was a sudden bang on the door as Alfred came barging in, still half in a daze. "England!" he screamed, "Everything, oka...?" He stopped when he saw the man sitting on top of the other nation, pumping his lungs with his vile mist. "What. The. Fuck." Alfred's eye furrowed in anger as he ran forward, kicking the man off of Arthur.

"What the bloody hell, America?!" New World snarled, using a British accent. "You think you can just bat me around like cribbage ball?!"

"Fucking watch me, asshole!" America snarled. "Nobody fucks with England! Nobody!" Bawling his fists he came forward, drilling it into the nations face.

New World went flying backwards, crashing into the wall as blood spewed from his nose. "Fucking beat me all you want, America," he snarled. "You'll never be able to kill me! I'll just keep healing and coming back! Don't you see, there is literally NO WAY to stop me!"

America snarled, "You're wrong." He paused, "There is one way to kill a nation."

"Yeah, I know!" New World stood up snarling, "Suicide! And I bloody hell will never do that! I've come too damn far to kill myself now!"

"You'll want to when I'm done with you!" Alfred growled as he flew forward, bashing the nation in the head. "Just you wait and see!"

The two continued to fight, exchanging punches and blows until both were exhausted. England just stared at the wall, unable to comprehend anything that happening around him.

"What is the point of this, America?!" Peter huffed, dodging a blow. "Both of us are going to heal and continue on our merry ways. Why are we beating the ever living crap out of each other?"

"Because you're a shit head!" America swung his fist again in anger.

"This is why I made sure you were knocked out!" New World dodged again. "You're so damn rash and too fucking strong for your age."

"You better fucking believe it!" Alfred swung again. But New World turned into a black mist, throwing the nation off guard as his punch went through the fog. New World quickly reformed as he grabbed the American by the throat, hoisting him off the ground. "You're so fucking strong." He smiled. "Which is why it will be a specific pleasure to absorb you."

"You wouldn't fucking dare!" America snarled, clawing at the man's hand.

New World grinned as a black fog began to escape from his hand. "Watch me." Within seconds, the black fog spread through Alfred's nose as it spread through his entire body.

England shook his head, trying to snap himself out of his trance. Looking up, he saw New World drop Alfred as the young man began to seizure, but he continued to stand.

"America!" Arthur tried to reach up, but he was still pinned down. "No!"

"You see, America!" New World scoffed, wiping the blood from his own jaw. "You lost! You pathetic over rash moron! And now your strength will be mine!" He laughed in triumph as the young nation slowly fell to his knees.

Surprisingly, America didn't cry or frown, but actually smiled. "Actually, New World," he coughed as blood began to drip from the corners of his mouth. "It is you that has lost."

New World was shocked to hear this from a dying man. "Really now?" he laughed as he squatted down next to the nation. "What makes you say this?"

Alfred only smiled, "You absorbed all of me, right?" he shook from the pain that was riveting through his body. "Well…" he coughed up a bit of blood. "America has the highest depression rate in the entire world." Falling onto his stomach, his eyes bulged as blood began to seep from his sockets. "I…I…Sometimes…the happiest…people…are always…the saddest." He took his final breath as the black fog left his body, flying directly back into the other nation, entering his body.

Peter stood there, staring at the American's corpse… staring. He couldn't move. "I…I…I…" he slowly began to shake as he looked at his hands. His eyes suddenly began to fill with tears as he dropped to his knees screaming and thrashing.

England couldn't believe what just happened. Using every last bit of strength he had, he broke free from the ice crystals, watching the new nation thrash angrily on the floor.

"Homie! Homie! Homie! Homie! Ahhhhhhhhh!" Screaming and twitching, the man clawed at his own face as he punched the wall, creating a hole. "Fuuuuuckkkkk!"

Arthur just stared in disbelief. He never realized that Alfred was so sad on the inside. He never said anything to him. Was it something chemically wrong with his brain? He stood there in utter terror, unsure of what to do.


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: Uuhh... so... feels ahead... like a lot of feels. So enjoy! And review!**

Arthur suddenly sprang into action. If America's brain was now in New World's head then maybe, just maybe, he could get through.

England tackled New World to the ground, pinning him to the floor. With some effort he was able to restrain Peter's hands above his head. Grimacing at the blood that was caked under Peter's fingernails England focused at the task at hand.

"Alfred, Alfred I know you're in there," Arthur said, struggling to keep New World on the ground. After absorbing America, the new nation was unbelievably strong.

"Get off me!" Peter yelled thrashing around.

"NO!" England screamed back, tears streaming down his face. "You took America and I'm getting him back!"

"America is long gone homie!" New World retorted as he slowly started to gain the upper hand, his voice a poor imitation to the real Alfred.

That's when Arthur saw it. The flash of red that was his old overcoat. With the last strength he had in him England shoved New World back into the floor. "America please! I know you're in there! Alfred…

Do you remember when you were just starting out as a country and you chose me over France? I carried you home and you fell asleep in my arms? I knew from that day on you would be my little brother and I would love you until the end of time.

Do you remember when you were young and we sat and ate ice cream on the front steps? You were mad that I didn't tell you how cold it would be and you took a giant bite, but you loved it anyways? You were my little brother then and I loved you.

Do you remember when a few months later I gave you those toy soldiers that I hand painted? You were amazed that each one had a different face and you loved them. You were my little brother then and I loved you.

Do you remember when you punched a hole in the dining room wall? You were so ashamed that you didn't know your own strength and I scolded you even though I wasn't really mad at you. You were my little brother then and I loved you.

Do you remember when I gave you my old suit so you didn't look so shabby anymore? You thought it was uncomfortable but I thought you looked so handsome. You were my little brother and I loved you.

Do you remember when I came back from the war and you were taller than me? You now were a full grown nation and I wasn't even gone that long but I still had to look up at you. You were still my little brother though and I loved you.

Do you remember that day, during the revolutionary war, where we faced off? I wanted to keep you with me forever. I wanted to protect you forever. But you demanded independence and I couldn't shoot you then because you were still my little brother and I loved you."

As he spoke England cried. Tears ran down his face as he held New World down. Arthur had hoped that this would have worked. That this would be the way he would get back to America.

"I still love you…" Arthur said, his voice cracking as he stared into those red eyes, pleading for Alfred to hear him.

New World stopped struggling. England watched as his eyes faded from red to blue. The blue of a certain American.

"Ar-Arthur?" New World mumbled in a voice that was America's.

"Alfred?" England asked, scared that this was all just some trick Peter was playing on him to get his trust. "Is it you?"


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: HAHAHAHA you thought you had feels last chapter... just wait. Also review!**

New World reached up placing a hand to England's face, tears were streaming from his now blue eyes. "E-England." He muttered, "I just want you to know how much I love you too. I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up. I'm sorry I couldn't do anything right. I thought maybe, if just this once, I could help somebody then I would. And when I saw you laying here, like that, I couldn't just stand by. I love you. You're my brother." He paused a moment, as he tried to smile. "My country has been… been a mess for years. That's why I'm always trying to help other countries. I thought, maybe it's over for me, but if I could at least make one person's day better, then I did a good job…" Tears pooled down his face as he sobbed miserably. "England, we have to stop this guy." America's voice was coming through clearly this time. "For once, I actually want to be the hero." New World's body suddenly sat up, as he wrapped his arms around England, embracing him tightly. "Goodbye big brother."

England didn't know what to say, or what America meant by this but he hugged his little brother back tightly. But as America leaned back, he saw that he had somehow gotten ahold of the pistol that Arthur kept on his dresser. Holding it up to his head, Alfred smiled one last time before pulling the trigger, leaving the room in complete silence. As his body dropped to the floor, New World's lips slowly moved in a slight motion that England new America was saying, "I'm the hero." And that was it.


	26. Chapter 26

**AN: Whoo! Last chapter! Hope y'all enjoyed this crazy ride just as much as me and my friend did!**

"No," England whispered looking at New World's body, staring at it in disbelief. "No, no, no, No, No, NO! Alfred please! NO! This can't be happening! I was supposed to protect you! I was your big brother! It should have been me…"

Sobs racked England's body. He could barely breathe and it felt like his heart was breaking in half. His shoulders shook as snot ran from his nose. He grasped the cold, still body on the floor, willing America to come back.

"You stupid bloody idiot! It should have been me! Why didn't you let him kill me and save yourself?! Why do you always have be the bloody hero?!"

America, the nation he raised, was gone. There was only one way to kill a nation.

With how hard Arthur was crying he missed it. He missed the black smoke pouring from New World. He missed how an inky tendril slid back into America's body. He missed how another tendril made its way down the stairs. He missed how New World's eyes slowly turned back to red. He missed how New World's hair shortened itself into a close cut white style. He missed how New World slowly lost the features he had gained from the other countries as they left his body.

"Why Alfred? Why? Why couldn't you just have stayed with me? Why didn't you see that I was only trying to protect you?" Arthur sobbed brokenly into New World's chest. "It should have been me!"

"Ar-Arthur?" a quiet voice asked.

England sat straight up, looking at the owner of the voice. "Al-Alfred? Is it really you?" Arthur asked reaching his hand out to touch the other nation, hoping that this wasn't a trick of his mind.

"It's me," Alfred replied with a small smile. "It's really me."

"Oh god America!" England cried before launching himself at the younger nation, wrapping him into a strong embrace.

Hesitantly, as he wasn't used to seeing the Brit this way, America hugged him back. "It's okay Arthur. I'm here."

England sobbed brokenly into America's shoulder. The two stayed like that for some time. Until Arthur broke the silence, "I thought I had lost you," he said quietly.

Alfred smiled and said, "You could never loose me. I'm the hero after all! And in the end the heroes always win!" America laughed and England couldn't help but crack a smile.


End file.
